Differences
by rawrchelle
Summary: Itachi/Sakura. There were many things that Sakura couldn’t see, but she couldn’t believe that she was blind enough to miss something as big as this.


**Title: **Differences  
**Pairing: **ItachiSakura  
**Genre(s): **Romance/General  
**Summary: **There were many things that Sakura couldn't see, but she couldn't believe that she was blind enough to miss something as big as this.  
**Theme: **43. ink blotch  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Word Count: **5426  
**Warning:** It's actually pretty plotless—apologies for that. But when I have to write fifty oneshots on this pairing, no matter how much I love it, ideas are going to run out eventually because they're so _limited_ for these two.

Written for my 50_shinobi challenge on LJ. Thanks to xx. false - deception for beta reading this for me. Honestly, I need to write you a gift!fic one day. You put up with all of this shit I send you. XD

Disclaimed.  
read&review.

* * *

When Sakura was younger, she would write in her diary—like many of the other girls at the academy, she suspected.

Naturally, she wrote about things all of the other girls probably wrote about.

At the age of twenty, Sakura found her diary again, her younger self etched upon the pages. It surprised her how differently she thought now, compared to back then.

"What are you doing?" She started at the sudden question, and hid the diary behind her back—knowing that the speaker was aware of it, anyway. She turned, and her eyes met with a heavily cloaked man with swirling crimson eyes.

Uchiha Itachi, she had decided, was the person she was meant for.

"Looking through my old things," she responded, gesturing towards a large cardboard box she had pulled out of her closet. "Are you finished with making dinner? I'll come out in a minute."

The man stared at her for a long time as she hurriedly shoved her diary back into the box and shut it. "You are hiding something from me."

"No!" she said indignantly, slightly offended that he would even think that. To hide something from him was like trying to get Naruto to fast from ramen for a month: damn near impossible. "Why don't you take off your cloak? Don't you feel warm in here?"

He turned and made his way out of her room. "I need to be ready to leave at any time."

A frown made its way to her features when she knew it was true. For him to be here at all was a huge risk—a colossal one, in fact—but she could never bear pushing him away, due to her own selfishness. And, hell, if he was here, being the shrewd, calculating bastard he was, he probably had an escape route already planned.

She marveled at the food presented to her on the table. It wasn't much, but somehow, it looked a lot better than what she could make. Trust Itachi to know how to do everything.

"What?" she asked when she found him staring at her for at least a minute. His gaze lifted so their eyes locked.

"You have rice stuck to your face," he pointed out. She blinked, and before she had time to wipe it off herself, he reached across the table. His finger rubbed against the corner of her mouth, and when he sat down again, she was highly embarrassed to see him eat the grain of rice.

And at the same time, it was so sexy.

When dinner was cleaned up, she headed back to her room. Itachi followed her, clearly having nothing better to do. He was here, after all, to spend time with her.

Taking out the diary again, she decided to let him read over her shoulder of he wanted to—after all, if worse come to worse, he would just make fun of her about it when the time came.

"You should read that out loud," he told her, sitting on her bed. His smirk adorned his lips, and she couldn't help but find how wonderful he looked.

She crossed her legs as she got comfortable on the floor. "Do I have to?" she asked in a tone that told him she didn't actually _mind_ doing it—she just preferred not to. When he didn't answer, she took it as affirmative, and hesitantly opened to the first page, not sure of what to expect.

She cleared her throat. "Dear Diary," she began, squinting to make out her barely legible scribbles. "Today, I decided that I like Sasuke-kun." She froze, and eyed the older Uchiha. "He's handsome, smart, quiet, and mysterious. The perfect man."

A faint snort was heard. "The perfect man?" he asked, tone mocking and laced with amusement.

She huffed haughtily. "I was young and naïve, okay?"

He nodded towards the diary in her hands. "Keep reading."

"I know you just want to make fun of me," she muttered, before flipping quite a ways into the journal. Stopping in the middle, she randomly picked an entry. "Dear Diary: After having trained with the rest of the team today, I have decided that I'm truly and madly in love with Sasuke-kun. He's so clever, and reacts so quickly. Naruto couldn't get a single hit on him."

"That's because Naruto's instincts are slower than the average shinobi," Itachi pointed out. She couldn't help but giggle.

"Yes, I suppose so." She flipped a couple of pages more. "Dear Diary: It's been exactly one week since Sasuke-kun left the village. Hokage-sama has taken me in as an apprentice to become a medic. I've decided not to burden people anymore. I always praise Sasuke-kun for being amazing, and scold Naruto for being stupid—but I never try at all.

"I decided to move on. Ino-pig can have Sasuke-kun all to herself. I don't love him anymore—I never loved him in the first place. It was just a silly infatuation.

"But I _have_ realized that Mr. Right will be someone who resembles Sasuke-kun in certain ways. He has to be relatively good-looking, sweet—but not follow me around everywhere dependently like Lee-san—and he has to be able to stand his own ground. He would preferably be a shinobi, so he can relate to me, and…" She squinted her eyes, bringing the pages closer to her face. "There's an ink blotch on it. I can't really read the rest. But then it reads afterwards, 'unlike Sasuke-kun'."

She could see him roll his eyes, although it was subtle. "Only you could make a mess wherever you went."

Frowning, she stood up and stalked over to him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She wasn't going to be soft towards him just because he was Uchiha Itachi and she was supposedly in love with him. She held his gaze fiercely when it shifted over to her. "Nothing in particular."

When she didn't move, he sighed, as if she was too dense to understand what he was trying to convey. Reaching out, his hand caught the collar of her red vest and he pulled her down, capturing her lips with his. Her heart skipped a beat—as usual—and her eyes closed—as usual—and she couldn't help but melt to his touch as his fingers ghosted across her cheeks—as usual.

"You're terrible, Itachi," she murmured when he let her pull away. "I don't know why I even care about you."

Amusement flashed in his eyes. "Because I'm handsome, sweet, independent, a shinobi, and very unlike my younger brother." It didn't surprise her that he had memorized her journal entry—after all, there wasn't really anything he couldn't do.

She rolled her eyes. "Since when have you been _sweet_?" she challenged, a grin meeting her lips.

He raised his eyebrows. "Must I remind you of the hard candy incident?"

Her cheeks flushed at that. There was a time when she had caught a terrible flu, and had resisted taking any form of medication. This resulted in Itachi force-feeding her by taking it in his own mouth and passing it through her lips in a hard kiss.

And then, as a treat, he did the exact same thing with a hard candy afterwards to get rid of the bitter taste of the medication.

"That doesn't mean you're _sweet_," she retorted. "You really need to get back into the swing of things—I mean, not that you were ever great at socializing and being _normal_, anyway…"

He didn't respond, and she crossed her arms, huffing. After a short moment, he stood up. "I should get going," he murmured, stepping closer to her. Her breath hitched and she was tempted to grab his cloak and request for him to stay—but it would be impossible, anyway.

"I'll see you later, then," she said, tone dampening considerably. She didn't even know when _later_ really was.

And so after pressing his lips to her forehead lightly as a promise of next time, he disappeared.

**x**

One week later, Sakura was sent down to the prison cells down in the basement for a special patient.

When she arrived, there were two medics to rummage through her packs and bags, making sure she only had the necessary items. And a little ways later, stationed right outside the heavily bolted door, were two ANBU members.

The cold, chilled room was dimly lit, but when her eyes adjusted to the light, she was appalled. She already knew to expect beforehand, but…he looked _terrible_.

"Itachi…?" she asked faintly, rushing over to him. He was chained against the wall with chakra suppressors everywhere, topless with minimally treated wounds and a dry trickle of blood coming from the corner of his mouth.

Her hands gently cradled his face, suddenly cold. She could feel tears prickling at the back of her eyes, and her throat had a painful lump. "Are you alright?"

He met her gaze weakly, but the smirk was still there. "What do you think?"

"But…" She frowned and immediately set to work. "You wouldn't have been caught if you didn't want to. I know you. We _all_ know you. That's why Hokage-sama is so suspicious." Carefully removing the poorly applied and bloody bandages on a rather nasty wound, she charged her palms with chakra and eased it through his system.

"I have my own reasons." His tone was conservative, and she decided not to ask anymore. He was like that, sometimes; especially when she asked him about the Uchiha slaughter.

She worked for a while in silence. "I'm sorry I didn't bring you any food," she said quietly. "They checked my bags before I came."

"No matter; I live off soldier pills."

She grimaced at the statement. "That isn't healthy at all." She headed over to the table where her bag was placed, and fished out a water bottle. Bringing it back to him, she unscrewed the cap and held it to his lips, lifting his chin up. "Here, drink it."

And strangely, he kept his mouth shut.

When she pulled the bottle away from him, he murmured, "When they interrogate me, they will also check my body. If it's found that there's extra water in my system, they will suspect you."

"It doesn't matter; just drink," she said, shaking her head and pressing it to her lips once more. After a long moment, she thought she would have to force him to drink it the way he made her take that medicine, but finally, he parted his lips and she poured the water into his mouth.

His words were hanging in the air, even if he didn't say them, and she was fine with that. Closing the bottle, she proceeded to heal a fractured wrist.

She didn't want to ask, but the reason why he was here prodded at her curiosity. He wouldn't have been caught if he didn't want to—it was just as simple as that.

"You should go," he said absently ten minutes later, when she finished with his wounds. Now, he was only cold, chakra-drained, and helpless.

"I know," she responded quietly. "But I don't really want to." She was kneeling in front of him, fingers absently tracing his features. Perhaps even taking advantage of the moment, because he wasn't able to stop her.

He didn't respond, but his burning gaze never left hers as her arms made their way around his neck. Her embrace was gentle and loose as she pressed her face into the crook of his neck.

Even beaten up and imprisoned, he still held that musky smell that she loved so much. She squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to cry. They were going to figure something out. They were going to get him out of here, because God knows he doesn't belong here anymore. Maybe he never did in the first place.

"Why are you here?" she asked again, lips moving against his skin. Her voice was quiet, trembling—and she could only hope that he would answer.

"For reasons you don't expect me to be," he responded in the same hushed manner, breath in her hair. It was a vague answer, she knew, and she was just itching to find the details—but now, maybe, they were better off unknown.

Sighing, she pulled away and pressed her lips softly to his. "We'll think of a way to get you out. Don't worry. I'll—I'll leave the door unlocked, or something, and draw away the ANBU.

The movement was miniscule, but she could still see him shake his head. "No."

She stared. "What…?"

"I am not leaving."

A smile managed to make its way onto her lips, and she let out a strangled laugh, not quite able to describe the anxious feeling bubbling in her stomach. "What do you mean? Of course you're leaving! You're going to die if you stay."

"I am not leaving." His words bounced off the cold walls of the room, and she wished they didn't.

"Then…what will you do?" she asked brokenly, her vision beginning to blur from the tears.

"I will stay." That was such a typical answer for him. Obviously he was going to stay, if he wasn't going to leave.

"That's not what I mean."

"Then please elaborate."

It was funny how he could still infuriate her in his own little way, even when she could crash his skull in at any given moment. In a way, she liked it—if Uchiha Itachi was one thing, he was dominating—but, _dammit_, sometimes, she just wanted the upper hand.

"I mean…What are you going to do here? What use does this place have for you?" He wouldn't stay if there wasn't a reason. There was _always_ a reason.

He leaned his head back and stared idly at the ceiling. The dried up trail of blood had been wiped away, but she could still see it, haunting her. "I wonder."

Her brows furrowed. "Can't you just give me a straight answer?"

"This is anything but straight."

She sensed that it was the end of the conversation. Sighing in defeat, she stood to her feet, pressing her lips to his forehead. "I'll be leaving now. Take care, Itachi. Don't die."

She heard a light snort as she made her way to get her bag. "What made you think I died so easily?"

She didn't respond, but his words comforted her.

**x**

_He would preferably be a shinobi, so he can relate to me, and—_

She still couldn't read it. No matter which way she looked at it, or how much she scrunched up her eyes, she couldn't read it.

Since when did she even _have_ pens that exploded on her?

Mustering a sigh, she tossed the diary to the floor beside her bed and curled up into a comfortable little ball, already in her cozy pajamas. She couldn't remember, for the life of her, what she had written. She clearly had the memory of writing the _beginning_—but when it came to that part that was _covered_, she couldn't fathom a single letter.

It was such a huge blotch, too. It covered a span of five to seven lines, so she could only read distorted sentences before and after.

This was stupid. She didn't even know why she was mulling over this. She wrote it when she was _thirteen_—and it's already seven years later. It shouldn't matter.

Banishing all thoughts of the diary from her mind, her thoughts wandered back to Itachi. Both curiosity and anxiety was eating at her. It didn't make sense—it just _didn't_. Him just _being_ here and promoting himself to stay…That wasn't the Itachi she knew.

There was obviously something she was missing.

**x**

Sakura wasn't sure whether she should laugh or cry when they brought him out of the interrogation room.

He almost looked exactly the same compared to the last time she had seen him, save for two ugly lashes across his back. When he locked eyes with her, he seemed strangely lively, despite his impassive features.

"What did he say?" she asked Ibiki, attempting to hold some tone of authority as she spoke to him. She was the Hokage's apprentice, and therefore, had the right to know this information.

He snorted. "Everything."

She quirked an eyebrow, confused. "Everything?"

"Yeah. Didn't resist one bit. Kind of disappointing." The image of the interrogator torturing the Uchiha sent a shiver down her spine. "Said he wanted to atone for his sins or some bullshit like that. Wanted to stay here and regain the village's trust."

Her mouth suddenly went very dry.

"Er…what?"

"Are you deaf, woman?" The man gestured towards the ANBU escorting Itachi, and waved them away. "Take him back to his cell." When her gaze met with his cruel one again, she took a small step back.

"I heard what you said, Morino-san, but…are you sure that's Uchiha Itachi? Would he really talk like that?" Confusion swept her mind, leaving her thoughts in a jumbled mess. Wanted to stay here? Itachi wanted to _stay_ here, and atone for his sins? What sins? The Uchiha massacre?

He shrugged. "No idea, Haruno. But if he talks like that, we don't have the right to kill him."

Relief was the next thing that invaded her system. Managing a smile, she said, "Thank you," and promptly left to heal the prisoner's injuries.

They didn't check her packs this time—maybe because Itachi no longer proved to be dangerous. Swiftly closing the cell door behind her, she unpacked her bag and headed over to where the man sat on a wooden plank chained to the wall. Although there were still chakra restraints on him, she was glad _he_ wasn't the one chained to the wall this time.

Without exchanging a single word of request, he turned so his back faced her. A soft smile met her lips as her chakra coated her palms, and she positioned her hands over his wounds.

"That was smart, Itachi. Saying those things so they won't kill you."

He didn't answer, and that made her slightly uneasy. The things he had said yesterday lined up all too well with what Ibiki told her today.

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" she asked briskly, checking for abnormalities after his skin had become flawless once more. The tie was pulled out of his hair, so it splayed across his back in a feminine, yet absolutely wonderful way. Idly, she began to run her hands through it.

"No." His voice was quiet, and her fingers froze for the smallest of moments before continuing to untangle some knots.

"Then…are you really intending to stay? Is what Morino-san told me true?"

"That will depend on what he told you."

A soft sigh escaped her lips, and her arms wrapped gently around his neck. His back pressed against her body, comforting and warm. They both looked at the cold wall in front of them. Sakura felt exactly like that right now; like a wall had been placed in front of her, and for the first time ever, she couldn't break it down.

"He said that you wanted to atone for your sins…and stay here to regain the village's trust." His body tensed slightly, and the atmosphere tensed with him.

"Things will progress the way they are supposed to," he said softly, reaching up to take her hand. She was slightly taken aback by his sudden act of intimacy. He was so warm, compared to her clammy palms. She gripped his hand tightly.

"Why…are you doing this?"

She felt him lean back into her a little. "Who knows."

**x**

Naruto's arm snaked around her shoulders, gripping her tight as he pulled her into him. "You ready?"

Her weapons holster felt heavier than normal, and she even felt a little like Kakashi, knowing that she had a book in there. Her diary, to be exact. "Sort of. Not really."

In the blink of an eye, a year and a half had passed. She didn't know where the time went. It just _disappeared_.

Today was the day they were going to release Uchiha Itachi and put him on probation. Sakura didn't really think the day would come—the day when Itachi would be accepted into the village again. He wasn't charged, wasn't punished…wasn't dead. Maybe it was because he was so cooperative when interrogated.

In fact, she was beyond relieved. The fact that he was still breathing today made her knees go weak from joy.

There were masses and masses of people here. Although the majority was shinobi, she noticed—recognized, even—some civilians standing around, waiting to see the murderer himself in the flesh.

And suddenly, she was so grateful for Naruto right there. She might've fallen to the ground and burst out crying otherwise.

Naruto's hold around her shoulders tightened. "It'll be alright. If he tries to do anything, I'll be the first to stop him."

She managed a weak laugh. That was the least of her worries. What she was most worried about was what he was going to do after. She couldn't imagine him doing trivial, D-rank missions while working to regain the village's trust again—it just wasn't _right_.

Everyone went silent, and her attention shifted towards the front door of the Hokage tower. It had opened, for a short while, only a single ANBU member stood there, very still. Then, Uchiha Itachi emerged from behind him.

There were many things that were different about him. Firstly, his hair was a lot longer, now. Sakura had promised to get it cut, because he clearly already didn't like the fact that his hair was longer than hers. The lines of exhaustion under his eyes seemed to fade a little, too; minimum stress and all the time in the world to sleep tended to do that to you.

She smiled, very slightly. He looked healthier, albeit a little thin. Well, she'd just have to fix that later.

She zoned out during the traditional procedure to release prisoners—there were procedures?—and before she knew it, Naruto was gently tugging her towards the Uchiha, who was being guarded by one ANBU member.

He regarded them with bland eyes. His Sharingan was still on and alert—despite the many times she had told him to turn it _off_—as they approached.

"Don't you just want to throw a punch at him?" Naruto muttered in her ear. "Although you probably had many chances at that." He snickered slightly, referring to the times she'd had to heal him due to fatigue, exhaustion, or just lack of food. At one point, he was near pneumonia due to being shirtless in a stone cell.

His comforting arm left her shoulders as he crossed his arms, regarding the former missing-nin. "So, _Uchiha_. What brings you back here?"

"None of your business." His voice was languid and smooth, and as conserved as ever.

Naruto scowled. "Sasuke's going to come back once he hears of your return. He's going to kill you. You'll never live in peace."

"My brother has been missing for years."

Sakura flinched at this; she didn't like it when they talked about the younger Uchiha.

The two makes engaged into a temporary glaring contest, until she gently tugged at Naruto's arm. "Come on, let's go. He's not worth it." But when she glanced at him one last time before they left, she knew he was worth it. _Completely_ and _totally_ worth it.

**x**

She rapped on the door three times on the door of the apartment that had been arranged for him.

Itachi opened it not too soon later, looking thoroughly cleaned. His hair looked a lot healthier, now, tied back into his ponytail again, and he even smelt like the soap he used. Nothing special, but it was much better than blood and sweat.

He stepped back and allowed her in without a word, and she shifted her bag higher on her shoulder. She had brought green tea, and some dango; no doubt, he'd like some proper food.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, setting out the thermos and packaged sweets.

"Adequate." She felt his presence behind her, and for once, she felt relaxed around him; no glancing at the clock every two minutes, no worrying about having to leave—because there was nowhere for him to go, now.

His fingers lingered at her hair for a short moment before his arms wrapped around her waist. He only gave her a few moments to set down the items in her hand before he pulled her back into his chest. She smiled lightly; as commanding as always. "How are the missions?"

"Incompetent."

That made her giggle a little. Indeed, seeing Itachi walk dogs and pick weeds was not a very common sight.

She felt him bend down behind her, and he pressed his lips hard onto her jaw, causing her eyes to flutter closed and a sigh to escape her lips. They could stay like this all night, just basking in each other's presence, and it would be alright.

"Let's get some proper food into your stomach," she said, gently prying herself from his arms—only to find that his hold was tight.

Out of the corner of her peripheral vision, she found his dark eyes flickering towards the table. "That can wait," he murmured before turning her around so she could face him completely, taking her face in his hands and kissing her.

He was being awfully intimate. Was it because he knew, as well, that there wasn't a time limit?

But, of course, she wasn't complaining. She pressed herself into him, allowing her fingers to just barely graze the side of his head. His lips eased hers open slowly, and she enjoyed the feeling of dancing tongues and short, heated breaths in between.

"The tea's going to get cold," she said softly with a smile on her lips. And, with that, she pulled herself from his—albeit, warm—grasp, which he let her escape from this time.

They sat across from each other at his small table, drinking tea and eating dango at nine-thirty in the evening.

"So, how are you adjusting to this life again?" she asked offhandedly. "Like, you know, without having to be on the run all the time."

There was a pause, as if he was thinking. "Somewhat boring."

She giggled. "It's not relaxing?"

"Relaxing, but boring."

She stared at the green tea in her cup, swishing it around a little. "If you could, would you return to the Akatsuki?"

The pause was longer this time, and when he responded, she was surprised. "Yes…and no."

"What do you mean?" She cocked an eyebrow.

He held his stick of dango in delicately between his fingers. In a way, it was somewhat of a comical sight. Uchiha Itachi; dangerous and dark, eating colorful sweets of pink, white, and green.

Chewing slowly, he swallowed. "Peace is pleasurable. As are you." She didn't miss the double meaning, and proceeded to find her tea very interesting. "But I do miss life as an Akatsuki."

"Then why…" Somehow, the mood seemed that much heavier. "Why didn't you fight back when you were captured all that time ago? We were faring along just fine the way your life was…" She knew she was venturing into unknown waters—but in the past year and a half, she hadn't spoken a word about it. And being Itachi's significant other, she felt she deserved to know.

This time, the silence was absolutely deafening. "There is no need for you to know." And with that, the subject was closed, and she ate her dango slowly.

And, suddenly, she felt like crying.

**x**

People always had dreams when they knew it was a dream, and, at the same time, they didn't. They were aware it wasn't real, but at the moment, it was the realest thing in the world.

Sakura was having one of those dreams.

The ANBU had found Itachi in her house. With her. Not in combat. They restrained the both of them, and Itachi wasted no time in lying through his teeth and saying that he had pulled her into a genjutsu once they asked what was going on. And then, he was enough of a bastard to do _just that_ so she wouldn't object.

Even in her dreams, Uchiha Itachi was a snide asshole.

The scene changed, just like in a movie, and then she stood before him in his cell, where he was locked up. Topless, like usual. Wounded—not like usual.

And so she proceeded to heal him, just like she was supposed to, and she asked him why he didn't just escape, like he normally would've. She asked, the way she had asked in real life when he was first locked and chained up.

But, unlike real life, he answered.

It was a quiet response, and she barely heard him. But she watched his lips shape the words in slow motion, kind of like the way dreams sometimes do, and she was dumbstruck.

"_For you."_

Sakura woke up with a cold sweat and heavy breath. Her hands clenched her sheets with white knuckles.

It was quiet for a long moment before she pried her fingers apart and sat up, very slowly.

Just a dream. Just a dream.

Dreams were like that. Things happened in dreams that didn't happen in real life. That was why there were called dreams, right?

But she couldn't stop thinking about it. It was already blurring in her memory, soon to become nothing—but she grasped desperately at the most significant part, closed her eyes, rewound and played it again several times in her mind.

_For you…_

That was wrong. Uchiha Itachi wouldn't do anything for her. As caring as he was, he would always ensure his own safety and lifestyle before hers. He wouldn't make such a sacrifice—

_Sacrifice._

The word hit her like a tidal wave, and she didn't know why. It was an epiphany of sorts; she launched herself out of bed, suddenly feeling energy flowing through her veins, and pulled out her diary. She flipped through the pages until she found the one entry that she couldn't read.

And, somehow, miraculously, she could read the words, even though they were covered with ink.

"Resembles Sasuke-kun…Stands his own ground…" She read aloud, her finger running along the lines. "He would preferably be a shinobi, so he can relate to me, and…and make _just one sacrifice, no matter how big or small, so I know that he cares_—which is something very unlike Sasuke-kun."

It was as if she was just told that she had always thought that the world rotated in the opposite way it actually did.

And then, not quite sure with what she was doing, she dropped the diary and rushed through her morning routines, finishing in a record time of ten minutes. After downing the rest of her coffee, scorching her throat in the process, she tied her weapons holster to her hip and raced out of the house.

If she wasn't wrong, Itachi would be making his way towards the Hokage tower now to collect a new mission…

The streets were still somewhat empty as she raced through them, weaving around the occasional person that was in her way. When the Uchiha came into view, she began waving, even though his back was facing her.

"Itachi!" He stopped, and turned around, raising an eyebrow amusedly as she stopped before him, panting.

"Is something the matter, Haruno-san?" They had agreed to keep their relationship secret for now; she might be arrested if they were together before his return.

But, somehow, that didn't really matter. "You…" She fought to catch her breath and calm the pounding in her chest. "You…"

He paused. "Me?"

She couldn't even put it in words. She couldn't even be sure if it was right. But, somehow, it all made sense, that maybe, just _maybe_, he did it all for her. Returning to Konoha. Bearing with the civilians staring at him. The D-rank missions. All for her.

But Uchiha Itachi didn't do that.

"Oh, _God_, I love you," she breathed, careless of anyone who saw them. She stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. He stood still for a long moment, before his arms locked loosely around her hips.

It was kind of like there was a huge ink blotch in her life, and she just couldn't see what was hidden underneath it.

* * *

**A/N:** Haha, um, I like reviews, yo.


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